


The Root of the Problem

by MadManta



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Break Up, Fingering, Jealousy, M/M, Make Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadManta/pseuds/MadManta
Summary: Some things don't work out. But that's fine, because it's easier to be single when you have clear goals: do whatever you want, and look good doing it.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	The Root of the Problem

Some things don’t work out.

Reno thinks that it’s for the best. He’s a grown man and he knows what he wants out of his life. He’s known since he was young; he’s been a Turk for a half a decade, because he has clear goals. One, do whatever the fuck you want, and two, look good doing it. Goal number two is ‘easy’, in that he spends a lot of time keeping up his looks, with hair appointments and custom tailoring, but with that out of the way, it’s a lot easier to deal with goal number one.

‘Do whatever the fuck you want’ only works so far as it only affects Reno, though, and that is how he ends up perpetually single. Which is what Reno _wants_ , mind you. Relationships mean changing your schedule, your hobbies, your free time, to fit in some other person who is never worth the entire change. He’s happy to flit from flower to flower and get his pollen on whoever’s sheets for the flavor of the month.

And it was fine, until he found himself desperate to feel Rude’s sheets under him.

He’d known his partner for as long as he’d been a Turk. And it was inevitable for Reno to want to know him from the first mysterious moment together. Rude had been hard to crack, at first, but after years, they were a perfect match in their work. They never failed a mission, and though they had tussles, it was never too serious to ruin anything.

One night, when they were drunk, Rude kissed him, and Reno had never wanted anyone more in his life. They woke up hungover and naked, and Rude had seemed very uninterested in repeating the scenario. Reno, though, craved it. Rude had been drunk, but not so far gone that he couldn’t perform, and it left Reno with stars in his eyes.

But he was distant after that, at least for a little while. It took a month of regular work and platonic drinking before Reno made his move, right after work before they would head home for the night. He propositioned him and got a big gloved palm shoved right in his face.

So he did it again a week later, and then a day after that, until finally Rude had blown up at him — insofar as Rude was able to ‘blow up’.

“It’s not a good idea,” Rude said. “Why are you pushing for it so bad?”

“Cause I want you, asshole,” Reno laughed. “I miss that big black dick.”

Rude hadn’t been amused, and tried to step around him, but Reno met him at every change. “Please!” he said. “There’s just something about you, okay? I like it.” His hand moved to stroke up Rude’s tie, teasing. “I miss it.”

Now Reno knows why Rude had been so hesitant, because Rude knows Reno very well. Reno doesn’t settle, not for anybody, but Rude’s little game of hard to get had made him more set on nailing him down than he’d ever been about anyone else.

And the sex was _good_. Reno was walking funny after that first needy night. He woke up with a sore jaw from how wide his mouth had stretched around Rude’s cock. It went on like this, until Reno was practically at Rude’s place every night so he could get his back blown out.

That’s when he realized what it was turning into. A thing. A _relationship_. He woke up one morning, stared at himself in Rude’s mirror and saw he had an inch of roots.

An _inch_.

How the fuck had he let himself get to this point? He hadn’t been caring about goal number two, and soon, Rude would be telling him what to do. Telling him how to live his life. “Clean up your take out containers” this and “Stop hogging all the blankets” that. All that _and_ fucked up hair?

So he’d told Rude that it was fun, but it just wasn’t gonna work out, and then went to his hair stylist that day to redo his roots. Tseng had been irritated at him for taking a three hour lunch, but beauty takes time, y’know?

Rude had been oddly cold about it. Didn’t even beg Reno to stay, which was almost insulting, but it definitely made for a cleaner break. Another reason that Rude was good for him, but, in a ‘just friends’ kind of way. Any other way had too much baggage. Reno had seen the way Rude gazed at him some nights, big brown eyes impossibly soft. Thinking about it made Reno deeply uncomfortable, like his chest hurt, and he didn’t like that.

So it’s better this way: back to normal, to where they could drink and eat messy bar food and Reno could cruise for whatever flavor he was looking for.

Except lately it _hasn’t_ been that way.

Rude, despite everything, still invites Reno out for drinks. Reno’s grateful for it, since Rude picks up the tab and is fantastic at diffusing situations where Reno might be close to starting a bar fight. And he used to be a good wing man, but now when they go out to bars, it’s Rude who cruises.

Hey, Reno’s glad for it. If Rude’s out there flirting with whoever, it means their little ‘break up’ (though Reno loathes to call it that) didn’t have such an impact. It means work will go on as usual, and that they can still stitch each other up or drink until they forget what they saw. It just also means that Rude won’t lean down and press his thumb into Reno’s lip before he kisses him. Or use those big hands to hold Reno’s wrists down above his head while he—

Reno tries not to choke on his beer. Those are not productive thoughts. They won’t help him find a fuck for the evening. Much to his annoyance, the hottest person in the bar — besides Rude, but that’s a given, nobody’s as hot as him, which is just another thing that secretly pisses Reno off — is already under Rude’s spell. The guy is lean and muscular with spiky silver hair and tattoos winding up and down his arms, and he is _taken_ with Rude. Reno watches the two of them murmur into each other’s ears and then bump hips. Rude glances back at him and catches him staring, but the expression seems empty. Cold, almost. And then Rude closes out his tab and disappears with the guy with the ridiculous hair, and Reno seethes that now he has to start his own tab.

The second time this happens, Reno just packs up and heads to a different bar, hopefully with better looking clientele. With Rude out and taking someone else home, he at least doesn’t have any competition.

Reno tries not to notice when Rude has the top of a hickey just visible above his collar at work, but he can’t help it: “Damn, you get attacked by a bear?”

Rude doesn’t even look up. “Definitely more of an otter,” he says, typing away. “Could certainly hold his breath for long enough.”

Reno dreams up the image of a handsome, scruffy man with a perfectly furred chest and finds himself frowning. “Too much info, man.”

“You brought it up,” Rude says, and finally gives him a slowly arched eyebrow.

Reno scoffs, “Touchy, jeez,” and turns back to his work.

It doesn’t bother Reno. It’s why they keep going out for drinks together, even though picking up Rude’s leftovers is starting to irk him. He just wants to be able to pick up best looking person in the bar, and it’s infuriating that Rude keeps… _Winning_. Like it’s a competition. And it might as well be. Though some nights, it looks more like whoever Rude picks up is the real winner, because Reno just doesn’t _feel like_ hanging out any more after that. Those nights he goes home with only his hand as his date, and those nights he thinks of wide, dark shoulders and big, soft eyes; of that deep voice rumbling his name in his ear. But there isn’t a face or a name, or anything. It’s not anybody specific.

He wants to go to a club one night, and Rude (unfortunately) agrees. The only good thing is knowing that it will be easy to lose Rude, and then he can find whoever he wants, and in the dark lighting, he can _see_ whoever he wants, too.

But there’s nobody that piques his interest. It’s infuriating. He’s three drinks deep and hasn’t seen anyone worthy of his time. He hasn’t even seen Rude. Maybe he managed to find the one diamond in the rough, again. Reno sighs in frustration, looking for the exit. He just wants to head out for a smoke, clear his mind; it takes ages to find the door, and it’s a huge metal one that clanks like he’s escaping a prison cell. When it slams shut, the thumping bass is drowned out in an instant and instead all he hears is the telltale sign of wet slurping.

Reno can’t believe his luck when he sees Rude there, in the alley behind this fucking club, with a guy on his knees in front of him. Rude’s sunglasses are off. They stare at each other, Reno’s heart racing. How dare this fucker make off with—well, Reno can’t see the other guy’s face. He doesn’t know if he’s the only hot guy at the club or not. But he can’t stand to see this. Queasiness roils through his belly, and he quickly turns to push the door back open.

It’s locked.

“Fuck,” he hisses, kicking the door with his boot, and then staring down the end of the alley. To escape, he has to walk past them. He doesn’t.

He sprints.

He doesn’t stop to look, he just makes it onto the street and down a block, and then stops, reaching out for a light pole. He gags, but nothing comes out. A bystander grimaces at him, and he gives an awkward laugh. “Runner’s cramp,” he says, even as he’s dressed like a sweat-drenched clubber and smells like a barmat.

They don’t talk about it at work. Reno has trouble looking at Rude, actually. It’s probably just embarrassment for fucking up the bro code. Not cool for Reno to interrupt — whatever it was. He doesn’t like to think about it. It makes him sick.

But it doesn’t bother Reno. They do their jobs just fine. When Rude kicks a guy in the face to save Reno’s ass, they clasp hands and Reno utters, “Thanks, partner,” and means it. Rude’s hand grips his chin to turn his head to make sure the welt on Reno’s head is insignificant. Reno wants to press his whole face into that leather hand, and when Rude withdraws, Reno feels an ache so hard he can’t ignore it. It wasn’t from the fight.

Finally feeling Rude touch him seems to have broken him.

He doesn’t like to go out drinking as much because it makes him maudlin about things he doesn’t want to think about. He doesn’t even want to eat out with Rude, because when they’re alone together and off the clock, it feels like there’s a magnet inside him that’s pulling hard towards his partner. And the closer they sit, the more it hurts.

But then, the other Turks invite them out for drinks, and Reno can’t just blow it off. Because everything is fine, and he loves drinking with the others.

Until he sees Rude at the bar, chatting. Someone. Up.

Reno’s blood boils. His heart clamors in his chest. His fists ball up.

He stomps up to the bar and inserts himself between Rude and his conquest. “Hey,” he says, interrupting as irritatingly as he can. “Buy me a drink, handsome.”

Rude’s eyebrows draw down. “What are you doing.”

Reno turns back to the attractive young man behind him. “Buzz off, Romeo, this one’s mine.” He turns up the charm on Rude, because if he doesn’t, he’s gonna fall apart. “Buy me a drink.”

“Reno,” Rude says, voice tinged with warning.

“Rude,” Reno replies, and leans close to him. “Please. You’re killin’ me.”

Rude stares at him, and doesn’t even notice the other guy slink away. All his focus is zeroed in on Reno, and it’s burning through him. “I didn’t do a damn thing.”

“Please,” Reno says, quieter now. “Please give me… Something. I’ll take anything.”

Rude’s jaw clenches. Reno can see how irritated Rude is, or at least, it seems like he is. “I thought you didn’t want that from me.”

Reno crowds into his space, but it’s more so that their conversation feels more private. His voice is hushed. “I do though. I can’t…” Reno clears his throat, embarrassed, even as his hand lands on Rude’s lapel. “I can’t watch anyone else touch you.”

Rude is deadly quiet as he grabs Reno’s hand. It feels like a dismissal, until Rude pushes away from the bar and moves towards the bathrooms, with Reno’s hand still intact. Reno follows, his heart choking up in his throat as he’s pulled inside and into one of the only two stalls. He’s finally alone with him, touching him in one long line, the ache from that magnet pull exploding into heat and excitement.

Rude pulls one glove off with his teeth, and then searches in his own jacket pocket. “Fine, you want something?” he growls, and even the tone of his voice lights up Reno’s insides. The voice he’s been thinking of and pretending it isn’t Rude, even though he’s all he can think of.

“Please,” Reno whispers.

Rude is rough with him, getting his pants open and crushing his slim body against Rude’s broad one. His hand slides down the back of his pants, fingers invading and probing, and Reno lets out a sharp gasp.

“Yes, _please_ ,” Reno whispers.

“Why do you want it so bad?” Rude asks, and tears open a little packet with his teeth.

The hairs stand up on Reno’s neck when he feels Rude’s bare hand slide back inside his pants, fingers now slippery with lube. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” A groan is ripped out of Rude as he presses two fingers into Reno. He whimpers, trying not to buck under him. “Why did you do this to me? How?” He’s breathless and whining and Rude is fucking him with two fingers.

“Because you belong to me,” Rude says, and the words send a jolt of arousal through Reno’s body, from his heart to his cock. “But you had to be a little shithead about it all.”

“Rude,” Reno gasps, and shoves his pants down far enough that they pool at his ankles. His legs spread, and it just makes it easier for Rude to finger him faster, deeper. “You—messed me all up. I, I had roots—with you, I… Ah, fuck…!”

“You’re an idiot,” Rude hisses. “You’re a damn mess without me. You have roots now, too.”

Reno finally looks up at him instead of curling his face into Rude’s chest, and his eyes feel big and dumb and wet. “Do I look stupid?”

Rude’s hand slows down, and instead his fingers curl in a way that causes Reno to claw at Rude’s neck. Rude gazes at him, and Reno reaches for the sunglasses, pulling them off. Rude lets him. His eyes are so, so warm. “You don’t look stupid,” Rude murmurs.

“But I’m an idiot,” Reno says voicelessly.

Rude’s shoulders shake with a laugh, and he pulls his fingers out of him. Reno is about to pout when he feels Rude turn him around and push him closer to the stall wall. A thrill shoots up Reno’s spine when he hears Rude’s zipper open.

“The best looking idiot in the place,” Rude says, and there’s another tearing sound. Rude just carried condoms on him. Reno tries not to think about everyone else Rude’s gotten to touch since their little split. He supposes he can only be grateful he’s been safe. He feels Rude’s cock press up against his abused hole, and he arches his back.

“Please, please,” Reno says, turning to look over his shoulder.

“I want it to be serious,” Rude says, and Reno lets out a gasp of shock.

“Are you negotiating with me right now?”

“If I fuck you, you’re mine,” Rude says, and teases the head of his cock in, and then back out. “And I’m yours.”

Reno’s heart is beating out of his chest. That’s all he wants, more than anything, but it still feels like a trap. “You gonna nag me to clean up after myself?”

“Yes,” Rude says, and pushes in a bit, and then back out.

Reno moans in frustration. “You really want to date a fuck up?”

“Yes,” Rude says again, and pushes in without stopping. Reno opens beautifully for him, his cheek pressed against the wall with an attractive, tiny gasp. Rude’s hands land on his hips and starts to move almost immediately. They’re in a bathroom, for fuck’s sake. Not a lot of time for romance. “I mostly,” he whispers, “just want to date _you_.”

Reno’s hand drops to touch himself. The ache in his chest has burst; all he feels now is heat, coiled in his heart and in his dick. “Hurry,” Reno whispers. “I need you so bad.”

“You have me,” Rude groans back at him, and the thrusts pick up pace. It’s fast and loud, and Reno is going to spray the wall in twenty seconds with how good he’s feeling. He gasps Rude’s name, the thrusts growing frantic. He lasts closer to twenty three before he’s coming, squeezing down on Rude’s thick cock and graffitiing the stall in spunk.

It seems like Rude’s been holding off for his sake, because he comes right after him, squeezing Reno’s body close to his, panting into Reno’s neck.

A minute later, Reno feels him slip out of his body. Reno gives a dumb chuckle, using toilet paper to wipe off some of the wall spritz, before both the paper and Rude’s condom get flushed down the toilet. Reno pulls up his pants and turns around to stare at Rude. He’s gorgeous.

“Will you buy me a drink now?” Reno asks, his grin soft and sly. “And then, maybe you could bring me home?”

Rude kisses him, and Reno feels like he’s walking on air. “Okay,” Rude says. They clean themselves up and wash their hands in front of the mirrors.

“You know,” Rude says. “If you want me to help, I can do your roots for you.”

Reno stares at him. “You’d… Do that?”

“Reno,” he says, smile growing. “I’d do _anything_ for you.”

Reno doesn’t stop staring. “Wait a minute — did you fuck all those guys to get back at me? Hey wait!!” Rude’s laughing as he chases him out of the bathroom.


End file.
